


Poinsettia

by Morethancupcake



Series: Home is wherever I'm with you [2]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Abusive John Winchester, Alternate Universe, Child Abuse, Childhood, Childhood Sweethearts, Domestic Fluff, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Friends to Lovers, Growing Up Together, John Winchester's A+ Parenting, Long-Distance Relationship, M/M, POV Bobby Singer, Prom, Protective Bobby Singer
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-02
Updated: 2017-02-02
Packaged: 2018-09-21 15:28:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,285
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9555065
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Morethancupcake/pseuds/Morethancupcake
Summary: Bobby wasn't exactly ready to be a father, and somehow along the way he gains not just two, but three sons.





	

**Author's Note:**

> A tiny story I had to write during the Holidays. I hope you enjoy ! :) Please remember English isn't my first language AND that I've ben studying a LOT of British content before you decide to point out mistakes/typos/incorrect speech pattern for good old Bobby. 
> 
> This wasn't betaed AT ALL and I'm sorry in advance ! :)

The first time Bobby notices the damn flowers, really notice them, John is nowhere to be found.

Sammy still wets himself, and Dean screams so loudly at night the little boy has no voice left in the morning.

He's lost, completely lost, he's not sure what to do with two small kids, he's not father material, never was, really.

He drags them to the market, to buy a tree, and some lights maybe. He wonders just what he could probably say about Santa.

"Uncle Bobby ?" Dean is so polite, so cold. So unlike the little ruffian who would run around and bring chaos into the backyard.

"Yes, Dean ?"

"What are those ?"

Dean holds his hand, and walk them to the florist's stand. Abby is nice enough to come and chat, offering them a small pot Dean carries all the way and back.

The red petals are a nice touch, it warms up the whole house.

 

The second time, Dean is better, or at least Bobby hopes he is. He goes to school, does his work, helps around. He's a nice kid, and Bobby tries not to hate John for taking him back.

They fight, ugly words and clenched fists, and the boys hide on the stairs, watching them.

In the morning, tears still fresh on their cheeks, Bobby hugs them and kisses them both, promising things he knows won't ever happen.

He puts the tree away, and packs all the lights and silly decorations the boys collected over the years.

He almost throws it, but remembers the light in Sammy's eyes, when Dean had told him "it's our tradition, Sammy. You, me and Uncle Bobby."

 

A year later, they're back, fresh tears and a few bruises, and Bobby swears never to let them go. They all sleep in front of the old TV, and when they go for groceries, Bobby adds the little clay pot to his basket.

 

The first time Bobby learns the name of the damn flower, Sammy brings a friend home. 

He's not too sure about it, he makes enough to put food on the table and keep them warm and happy, but this is no place for children to play.

Castiel doesn't mind. The little boy looks like a picture, sweet and polite, his hair combed just right, his blue eyes following his every moves.

It takes a minute for Dean to fall in love with the kid.

Being an adult, it takes Bobby a whole day.

Dean takes Castiel's hand and they walk around together, reading comics under the perpetual fort in the family room, eating snacks in the kitchen. Sammy seems delighted by the new development, and Castiel looks like a happy meatball about it all.

"What are these ?" He points to the little pot, close to the window. This year was good, lot of work, so Bobby had managed a bigger pot, four big flowers blooming in the kitchen.

"Poinsettias." Dean smiles at the boy like he's his entire world. "When I'm big, I'll be a gardener and I'll plant only poinsettias everywhere."

 

Dean wants to be a firefighter, a cop, a rockstar. He never mentions becoming a gardener anymore. 

 

The Novak brother, Michael, comes to him one morning. He pretends to need a few things done, an then goes straight to the point.

Bobby doesn't judge, he's seen a lot. Castiel becomes a regular fixture, always close to Dean, following Dean, sleeping with Dean.

Bobby tries to understand just why a family would want to get rid of such a sweet child.

 

Dean is about to turn eighteen when Bobby sits him at the kitchen table. He's not stupid, he might be old, but he has eyes.

Dean is all cocky and big grins when Bobby tells him about girls, about women, and especially the kind who started to talk to him when they're out and about. 

He sobers up pretty fast when Bobby talks about Cas.

"It's not..." He mumbles in his cup. "It's not like that. Cas is..."

"The boy sleeps in your bed most of the time. Been doing that since day one, really. Don't mess him up, do you hear ?"

"I won't. Never."

 

Dean starts to fool around. Gets a reputation, forgetting all about his promises.

Castiel sleeps in his own bed, and after a while starts to sleep at his parents' again.

It's a weird time, and Bobby misses the boy a lot. 

For Christmas, the Novak send their regards and a beautiful arrangement, poinsettias, roses and mistletoe.

Dean spends the Holidays inside, playing with Sammy and helping around. There's a hole in their little house, and Christmas isn't the same.

 

Castiel comes back, hands in his pockets, looking exactly like the eight years old who would sulk after a tantrum.

Bobby hugs him, because that boy is his, no matter what his birth certificate says, and he drags him to the kitchen to feed him. 

They talk about home, his parents and their money. He talks about school, and how he wants to become a doctor. They talk, right until Dean passes the door.

Bobby knows better than to interrupt.

He tells them to take their arguing to their room, and starts to take care of dinner.

 

It's weird. 

It' weird because he saw them grow up. He was there for the nightmares, the chicken pox, the tears in front of TV Shows.

It's weird, because he is afraid, afraid they'll break each other's hearts, afraid it'll end in screams.

 

But Dean all but cuddles with Castiel on the couch, his head on the boy's shoulder, their hands together, and Bobby forgets about college, about money and bad decisions.

Sammy's smile is enough to light their very own sun.

 

Dean manages to find a poinsettia to pin at Castiel's jacket. They take pictures in the backyard, it's bitterweet, he knows, they all think about fall, and what is to come.

 

He pretends not to hear the giggles and the few whispered words. He pretends he doesn't know about the condoms and lube in Dean's room.

He goes to the Roadhouse and spends the night at Rufus' after. They don't talk much, but it's nice, it's almost fun for two old dogs like them.

 

In the morning, the kitchen smells like eggs and bacon, and Bobby knows just looking at them.

 

His heart breaks watching his boys go. He helps them pack, he kisses them and hugs them and make them promise to call, and write and visit.

He knows they won't, kids are supposed to break their parents' hearts. 

 

Sammy calls, every week. They talk for a while, it's a weird thing to do, picturing his baby out in the world. 

Dean calls too. Never at the same time. Sometimes every single day. Sometimes once a week. He's happy, Bobby knows. He learns a lot, and the fire inside his heart seems completely gone. 

Cas writes. 

 

The first Christmas, he drives all the way to the tiny airport to pick Cas up, and together they take care of the house. 

Castiel looks thinner, older. He tells him about school, about his job. He tells him about the appartment his father insisted on paying, and the loneliness.

He doesn't talk about Dean, he doesn't need to.

They kiss as soon as the door closes, Sammy laughing at them both. It's like they're out of a movie, and Bobby can't help the tears and the smile, because his boys are home, finally.

He puts the poinsettias on the table, and checks on the chicken.

The boys are laughing, in the backyard, taking care of bags and gifts.

It's not their first Christmas, it's certainly not their last.

He calls his sons for dinner.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading ! If you enjoyed it, please leave a kudos, and even a few lines ? Comments always make me really happy !
> 
> You can find the story (and come chat) on tumblr :
> 
>  http://iwanttopizzamanyou.tumblr.com/post/156728042039/poinsettia
> 
> While we're at it, this would be the perfect time to tell you to relax your face, stretch a little and get a glass of water :)


End file.
